


eight ways to say i love you

by gaygentdanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt Lena Luthor, Love Confessions, Love Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaygentdanvers/pseuds/gaygentdanvers
Summary: It’s such aneasything to give her, these tiny pieces of Alex’s heart.





	eight ways to say i love you

**_i. spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot whiskey you downed for courage. feel as ashamed as you do walking into work in last night’s clothes. wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it._ **

 

They’re playing country music on the jukebox and Alex wonders what the hell kind of lesbians have just wandered in.

 

The floor is sticky under her boots as she returns to the bar, the bartender, Eddy, already shooting her a warning look as she orders another round of shots and slides back onto the leather stool. “Last one,” he tells her with raised eyebrows, “then it’s a glass of water for you and I take your keys.”

 

Alex shamelessly downs her next shot in front of him and he rolls his eyes in return, before turning his attention towards another customer. She’s been coming to this particular gay bar enough times to develop somewhat of a friendship with a few of the bartenders, and Eddy is one them — she thinks Winn might’ve liked him, if he still here.

 

She shakes her head. She’s not here to annoy Eddy, or to think about Winn. She’s here to get some fucking nerve.

 

Another shot goes down. She relishes the burn as it slides down her throat, settling in her chest and spreading outward, slowly overtaking the feeling of anxiety that had made a home in her chest hours earlier. Her fingers tap restlessly against the bar top, a steady rhythm.

 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

 

The voice comes from behind her, and Alex tenses as a hand comes down on her forearm suddenly. Her eyes shift upward to meet a pair of unfamiliar blue ones staring back at her apologetically. “Excuse me?”

 

“Sorry if I startled you!” the woman exclaims, wide albeit nervous smile on her face. Alex blinks, tries to understand why she’s looking down at her like that. “Can I buy you a drink?” she repeats.

 

She says it with a flirty smile and a too-soft voice, and God, Alex is too on edge for this right now. A few months ago, before Lena, she’d probably be overjoyed to have a woman offering to buy her a drink. She’d probably even go home with her for the night, if it got to that point, but—

 

But this woman standing beside her stool is short and blonde and although she’s pretty, she doesn’t make Alex feel a thing; she’s a stark contrast to Lena, who is tall and dark and so, so beautiful that it makes Alex physically ache everywhere, right down to the bone.

 

She rubs her face with her hand, blowing out a long breath. “I’m good, but thanks,” she answers honestly, without even looking at the blonde. “You can have my water, though.”

 

“I—”

  
Alex thrusts the glass of water into the woman’s hand and turns around without saying another word, waiting until she hears the sound of footsteps walking away to check behind her.

 

As soon as she’s sure the woman is gone, Alex stops to think.

 

First, she thinks that maybe she’s a _little_ too drunk for this; the world around her is shaky, at best, the bar floor tilting beneath her feet. Second, she thinks that she’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

 

The three small words linger on the tip of her tongue already, one layer beneath the whiskey and one breath away from the taste of rejection. She can feel her heart thumping wildly from every pulse point in her body, a heavy throbbing in her neck, a fluttering feeling in her chest.

 

Lena couldn't reciprocate her feelings. While they might have already been dating for a few months now, there’s no possible way she could feel as strongly about Alex as Alex feels for her; she’s going to reject her, and Alex doesn’t think she can handle that without alcohol.

 

She doesn’t think she can tell Lena in the first place without alcohol, either.

 

She knocks back another shot of liquid courage and rubs at her eyes until explosions of colors burst behind her eyelids. This is relentless and pathetic, the constant tug-of-war going on between her hopes and her expectations, and she wants nothing more than to get it over with already.

 

“Alright, Danvers. Keys.”

 

Alex looks up. Eddy is staring at her expectantly, holding his hand out. “What?”

 

“You heard me. Keys. Call your lady, see if she can pick you up, alright? You can get them back when she’s here.”

 

Grumbling, Alex presses the keys to her bike into his hand, rolling her eyes as she stands from the bar stool on slightly wobbly legs. She salutes Eddy before she leaves, exiting out the back into the dark alley where she’d parked her bike. It’s entirely useless without the keys — not that she would have driven it home anyways — and Alex sighs, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

 

As she stands in the alleyway, she suddenly feels strangely sober despite all she’s had to drink, and although her mind is still a bit fuzzed at the edges, there are images in her head that are sharp, like the color of Lena’s eyes and the shape of her lips.

 

The brick scrapes against her shoulder blades through her shirt as she leans against the wall, the ground tilting slightly from under her, phone heavy in her hand.

 

She presses the call button on Lena’s contact and waits. With each long ring that sounds in her ear, Alex’s heart rate speeds up just a little bit more, and whether it’s because of the alcohol or the fact that she’ll be telling Lena she loves her when she sees her, Alex can’t tell.

 

_“You have reached the voicemail of Lena Luthor. Please leave me a message after the tone.”_

 

The back of Alex’s skull thumps against the wall at the sound of Lena’s voicemail through the phone’s speakers. Shit.

 

“Lena!” Her girlfriend’s name comes out as a shout, echoing through the alley, and Alex winces as she lowers her voice. “Hey, I guess you’re in the office, or maybe asleep, or something.” She rubs the back of her neck, kicking around a rock on the ground with the toe of her boot. “Shit. I’m at the bar. I was hoping you could, uh, come pick me up, but I— I guess I can— I can just call Kara to come get me, okay. I love you—“

 

_Beep._

 

She sighs and calls Kara next.

 

//

 

It’s only when Kara has flown her home and gotten her settled that Alex realizes what she did, jerking upright on the couch with wide eyes, all traces of inebriation seeming to melt from her at once and stone cold sobriety taking its place.

 

“Fuck!”

 

//

 

Lena doesn’t bring it up. Alex waits a day, then two, then four, and soon it’s been a week since she’d left the voicemail on Lena’s cellphone, undoubtedly slurring her words and sounding like one of the drunken idiots Alex witnesses in the bar all the time.  

 

The morning after, she’d woken up with a killer hangover and a cold sense of dread, waiting for the inevitable moment when Lena would burst through the door to her apartment and demand answers as to why she called her at one o’clock in the morning and told her she loved her for the first time over goddamn _voicemail,_ of all things _._

 

But that moment never came that day, nor did it come the day after that, or the day after that.

 

Lena doesn’t mention it until a week later, sitting across from Alex at her desk as they’re having lunch, poking at her kale salad with her fork. Her eyebrows are raised slightly, lips pursed, and Alex shifts in her seat, hands suddenly sweaty. Lena looks up at her knowingly, and Alex almost wishes for the ground to swallow her up.

 

“So, the voicemail.”

 

She cringes, drops her own fork and picks up a napkin to wipe her hands. “I— that was— that… wasn’t exactly how I wanted to tell you.”

 

Lena’s eyebrows raise even further up on her forehead. “Because you were drunk, and you told me over the phone,” she clarifies, and Alex’s face burns with embarrassment as she nods slowly. “Alright then. Consider it forgotten about.”

 

Alex blinks. “Wait, what?”

 

Lena looks up at her and shrugs a shoulder. “We’ll both just forget it even happened. After all, you were clearly intoxicated that night, and as you said, that’s not how you wanted to tell me. So, it’s forgotten about. You can tell me when you truly mean it.”

 

Oh.

 

Lena thinks she didn’t mean it because she was drunk.

 

“No, wait, I—” _I did mean it. I_ do _mean it._

 

She stops herself from speaking anymore, her mouth snapping shut with an audible clack of her teeth, because this is neither the time nor the place to tell her either, and Alex has to do this _right._

 

From across the desk, Lena smiles at her before changing the subject to something else.

 

They don’t bring it up again for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

 _ **ii.** _ **_sigh it into her mouth, wedged in between teeth and tongues. don’t even let your lips move when you say it, ever so lightly, into the air. maybe it was just an exhalation of ecstasy._**

 

They stumble into the office in a tangle of limbs, teeth clashing together in a forceful kiss, the door slamming shut behind them. Alex’s back hits the wall with a dull thud, and she lets out a grunt as the pain in her shoulder radiates outwards, shooting down her spine. Against her lips, Lena murmurs an apology and pulls back with concerned eyes, but Alex just shakes her head and pulls her closer.

 

“I’m fine,” she assures her between kisses, but Lena scoffs against her mouth, rolling her eyes.

 

“No, you aren’t,” she argues, one eyebrow raised. “That’s why this is happening.”

 

 _This_ referring to the angry, post-mission sex they’re about to have in the middle of Alex’s office, all biting kisses down her neck and bruising grips around her waist, Lena growling things like _how could you be so reckless?_ and _so_ _stupid, idiotic, absolutely foolish_ _—_

 

“You know, I love when you whisper sweet nothings in my ear,” Alex remarks, and receives a harsh bite against her throat in response, one that stings as Lena sucks on it, then soothes it with her tongue.

 

“Quiet,” she demands, looking up at her with dark eyes. The arousal low in Alex’s belly intensifies, flaring up inside her. “You don’t get to be smart with me right now, Director.”

 

Alex bites down on her lip as Lena tugs harshly on her tactical belt, fumbling a bit before getting it unbuckled. It’s dropped to the ground a moment later, soon to be followed by her thigh holsters, but Alex stops as Lena’s fingers wrap around the strap. “No, they stay on,” she tells her. “The pants too. In case of an emergency.”

 

Lena nods, but Alex recognizes the slight flush of her cheeks, the dilation of her pupils as she bypasses the holsters and goes straight for the button on Alex’s pants. It’s only when Alex huffs in discomfort that she pauses for a moment, seeming to take in the way Alex is favoring one ankle over the other, then scans the office.

 

“Sit on the desk,” Lena demands, and Alex doesn’t hesitate to listen to the orders, hopping onto the smooth wooden desk — that for once, thankfully, is not cluttered with important papers and files. As soon as she’s settled, Lena flicks the button of her pants open with ease, and then her hand is sliding down and cupping Alex over her underwear, fingers pressing teasingly through the thin, and slightly damp, fabric.

 

A gasp escapes Alex’s lips at the same time a seductive purr escapes Lena’s, and one hand comes up to grasp onto Lena’s shoulder. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you got off on throwing yourself in the face of danger,” Lena says as she rubs Alex through her panties, kissing her neck. “But that isn’t quite the case, is it?”

 

“No,” Alex gasps out, as Lena’s fingers suddenly pull her underwear out of the way and dip inside, gathering warm wetness and circling her clit. Alex wraps her legs around Lena’s waist and pulls her closer, her other hand coming to curl around the back of Lena’s neck, pulling her down for a rough, bruising kiss.

 

“So what is it then, Director?” Lena probes with a knowing smirk once she pulls away. “What gets you off? Is it the pain? Is the fact that I’m fucking you on your own desk, in your own office, where anyone could walk in on us?”

 

 _Spot on,_ Alex thinks, but she holds her tongue. There have been many occasions where Lena has topped, especially after close calls like today, where Alex has gotten hurt. It almost always follows up with a round of angry, passionate sex, sex where Lena is in control of the situation in a way that she couldn’t be while Alex was in danger, before they both come down off their high and Lena’s worry for her manifests itself in ways other than pure dominance.

 

But today, there is also something that is different, and Alex can’t help but notice it. Something in Lena’s eyes, in the way she holds Alex, in the way she speaks to her. For all her demands and the way she calls Alex out for her recklessness, there’s a softness there, lurking just underneath the surface. Alex can feel it in the way Lena’s free hand grips at her thigh, tight and hard enough to bruise, but in such a way that feels as though Lena is desperately trying to hold onto her incase she could somehow vanish into thin air. Like Lena is holding her here, anchoring her to the ground, forbidding her to go.

 

There have been many instances where Lena has been angry at her for putting herself in danger out in the field.

 

This is the first time Alex has ever noticed that she had been well and truly _scared._

 

Alex’s hand moves from the back of Lena’s neck to her face, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her chin and then over her lips, where her lipstick has already smudged significantly from their kissing. “Lena,” she whispers, waiting for Lena’s eyes to shift up and meet her gaze. When they do, it’s like a jolt goes through her, and she inhales sharply. “I’m here. I’m not… going anywhere. I’m not leaving you. You _have_ me.”

 

Lena’s throat bobs as she swallows hard, eyes flicking away for just a moment before she looks back at Alex, smiling softly. “Of course, you say that.”

 

“You underestimate my determination to push your buttons for the rest of my life, Lena Luthor.”

 

 _For the rest of my life._ The words slip out on accident, but Alex has no doubt that she means them, and she hopes Lena doesn’t either. But before Lena can think too much into it and drive herself mad like Alex knows she could, she reaches down and grabs the other woman’s wrist, pushing on it slightly. Reminding her of why they’re in here. Brushing off the loaded statement as if it’s not something they definitely need to talk about, pushing it back for another time, for when Lena has time to process it.

 

“Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

 

And with that, the heavy tension between them, which had been coiling tighter and tighter since before they even got into the office, snaps.

 

With skilled, deft fingers, Lena pushes inside of Alex with familiar ease, ducking her head and pressing kisses along Alex’s jaw, down her neck. She thrusts as hard and fast as she can in the confines of Alex’s pants, pressing hard against her clit and scraping at Alex’s throat with her teeth.

 

It only takes a few moments for Alex to come undone, walls clenching around Lena’s still-moving fingers, lips crashing together. In the midst of ecstacy, Alex squeezes her eyes shut and moans _“oh, fuck, I love you,”_ into Lena’s mouth, Lena’s breath warm against her lips as they stay parted from each other for a second, before their mouths press together once more.

 

She moans it again into the curve of Lena’s neck when she buries her face in her shoulder, mouth pressing against the skin there, stifling the other moans that follow. It slips out so _easily,_ without even a thought, as she clings to Lena and trembles, the burning ache in her shoulder subsiding just a bit as her orgasm takes over.

 

When she’s finally come down, still breathing heavily, Lena rolls her eyes. “You only say that because I give you mind-blowing orgasms like that one,” she says, and although it comes out as a joke, there’s a vulnerability behind the words that Alex sees clearly, right through Lena’s mask of indifference.

 

They lock eyes for a moment, then, and Alex hopes that the look she gives Lena conveys all that she’s thinking, all that she’s feeling. They do this a lot, speak through expressions, through _looks,_ and Alex knows Lena well enough to expect that she’ll understand.

 

Aloud, however, she speaks through a teasing smirk. She’ll play along with Lena, for now, and pretend like there’s not a different kind of tension forming between them. “Well, I’d hardly call them mind-blowing…”

 

Lena just rolls her eyes, and Alex chuckles, leaning forward to press one last kiss to her lips. It’s only when she winces, the pain in her shoulder and ankle both reappearing at once, that they both remember what went down before they got in here.

 

Lena stares down at her, green eyes hard. “You’re not allowed to die on me, Alex Danvers,” she warns, “or else I’ll kill you a second time myself for disobeying me.”

 

Alex can only smile. “Noted.” 

 

* * *

 

**_iii. buy her flowers. buy her chocolate. buy her a teddy bear, because that’s what every romantic comedy has taught you. take her out to a nice restaurant where neither of you feel comfortable and spend the whole night clearing your throat and tugging at your tie. feel like your actions are more suited to a proposal than the simple confession of something you’ve always known._ **

 

“This is stupid.”

 

“It’s _not_ stupid,” Kara argues, straightening out Alex’s tie for the twentieth time after Alex has anxiously messed with it. “It’s sweet! Lena will love it.”

 

“Lena is a billionaire, Kara.” Alex shifts her weight and tries to push down the anxiety bubbling up as eight o’clock draws closer, knowing Lena will be here any minute now. She’s nervous, there’s no denying that; more nervous than she should be, really, but she can’t help it. “She could buy me a whole chocolate factory if she wanted to. She’s not going to be impressed with one heart-shaped box and some roses. Hell, she could buy out the restaurant I’m taking her to!”

 

Kara rolls her eyes. On the coffee table, the box of chocolates and the bouquet of roses Alex had gotten Lena for Valentines Day sit there, taunting her. “Alex, trust me on this. She’ll love whatever you get her. Believe it or not, Lena is a simple gal. You could take her to Big Belly Burger tonight and she’d probably marry you.”

 

Alex’s eyes shoot up at that, but Kara isn’t paying any attention, instead rummaging through the closet until she pulls out a pair of shoes. She tosses them over to the couch, Alex just barely managing to duck to avoid getting nailed in the face. “Here, wear these.”

 

She checks herself over in the mirror, taking in the dark suit she’d bought specifically for occasions like these. She runs a hand through her hair, slicking it back, and frowns. “Do you think this is too much?” she asks, rubbing her hands together. “This is too much.”

 

“Alex, just a minute ago you were worried it wasn’t _enough._ What is up with you tonight? It’s not like you’re proposing or anything.” Kara’s eyes go wide. “Are you?”

 

Alex inhales sharply, heart skipping a beat at the thought. “No!” she hisses. “And be quiet! Lena could be here any minute, and I’d rather not have her walk in to hear my sister talking about a proposal.”

 

She runs a hand down her suit jacket, blowing out a nervous breath. She doesn’t know why she’s so anxious, but her hands shake as she adjusts her tie again, ignoring Kara’s exasperated looks as she does so. Then, her sister perks up, a wide smile splitting across her face. “She’s here!” she exclaims, approximately two seconds before Lena actually knocks on the door.

 

“I should be going now,” Kara points out. She winks at Alex as she opens the apartment door, mouthing over Lena’s head, _“Relax!”_ before speeding away in order to avoid Alex’s eye roll.

 

Then Lena steps inside, and all of the air in Alex’s lungs expel from her mouth at once. Lena’s in a dress she’s never yet seen before, dark red and backless, with a slit up the side of her leg. Her hair is lightly curled at the end, splayed across her shoulders, and Alex aches to run her hand through it.

 

“Have I rendered Alex Danvers speechless?” she teases as she approaches, her arms sliding up and around Alex’s shoulders.

 

Instead of answering, Alex leans forward, lips pressing against Lena’s own warm, pliant mouth. She sinks into the kiss, her hands coming to rest on Lena’s hips, fingertips gliding over the smooth fabric of her dress. “You look amazing in that dress,” she compliments as she pulls away, eyes traveling from Lena’s neckline to her shins, where the dress comes to a stop. “But is there any chance we can skip dinner and go straight to taking it off of you?”

 

Lena smirks, shaking her head. “Nice try though, darling.” Then, her eyes shift to a spot behind Alex, and Alex’s turns to see her looking at the roses and chocolate.

 

“Oh.” Alex backs up and grabs them both, practically shoving them into Lena’s hands. “I— These are for you.”

 

Lena fumbles with holding both the bouquet and the box of chocolates for a moment. There’s a smile on her face, one that’s soft and warm and _happy,_ surprised almost, as if she hadn’t expected Alex to get her anything. She presses her nose to the roses and sniffs, looking up at Alex with bright eyes.

 

“You’re the first person to ever get me flowers and chocolates.”

 

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “Really?” she asks, and Lena nods, still smiling softly. Some of Alex’s nervousness melts away at that, and a bit of the tension in her shoulders releases as she smiles back in return, shrugging nonchalantly and scratching the back of her head. “Yeah, well, you deserve it.”

 

Lena doesn’t have a response for that. When she looks back up, there’s a certain look in her eyes that makes Alex’s heart pound.

 

“Our reservation’s at eight thirty,” she reminds her, breaking through the light tension that had suddenly fallen over them. “We should go now if we don’t want to be late.”

 

“Of course,” Lena agrees, slipping her arm through Alex’s and taking hold of her elbow. They walk in silence to the car waiting for them outside, and Alex tries hard to calm down the remaining nerves still jumping around in her chest on the way there.

 

Ultimately, she fails.

 

It takes her adjusting her tie for the tenth time in the first twenty minutes of dinner for Lena to finally notice something’s off with her, eyebrow cocked and eyes seeming to look right through Alex as though she’s made of glass. The sudden attention makes her hands clammy, and she wipes them discreetly on her pants, clearing her throat. Her tie feels more like a noose, tightening around her neck and choking her, keeping her confession trapped inside her throat.

 

She’s being ridiculous; it’s not as if she’s confessing something that Lena hasn’t already heard from her several times before, that she herself hasn’t known for a while now. And yet, the anxiety builds in her chest, wrapping around her lungs and making it hard to breathe.

 

“Alright, what is it?” Lena finally questions by the time they’ve both finished their meals. With one hand, she wraps her lips around a spoonful of ice cream they’d gotten for dessert, twirling it around in her mouth and sliding it out. The nails of her free hand tap rhythmically against the table, until she reaches over and grabs Alex’s hand. If she can feel how sweaty Alex’s palm is, she says nothing about it, and Alex is internally grateful for it.

 

She clears her throat again. All too suddenly, the table seems to put miles between them. “I just—”

 

She’s already given her the chocolates, and the roses, and the restaurant they’re at is well above Alex’s pay grade, even as director of the DEO. If Lena doesn’t believe by now that Alex loves her, she wonders what it’ll take.

 

“It’s so different with you.”

 

This is what slips out instead of the three words she’d been planning on saying, and Lena looks at her curiously. She clears her throat again, shifting restlessly in her seat. She racks her brain for a way to explain, not quite knowing what she herself meant by it, until more words seem to leave her mouth on their own. “It’s just different with you. I was never this nervous with Maggie, and I think— I think part of that is because I didn’t really have anything to be nervous _about._ I was never constantly worried about whether or not I was doing enough, whether or not I was giving her what she deserved—”

 

“Alex,” Lena tries to cut in, but Alex shakes her head.

 

“I just love you so much.” And there it is. It comes out in a rush, like she’s unconsciously trying to get the words out before she can’t anymore, for whatever reason. “I love you, and I know you don’t believe me yet. I know you don’t think that I mean it, and that’s okay. I’ll just keep telling you until you do.”

 

Lena sits back in her chair, suddenly fixated intently on the candle burning between them both on the table, the orange light reflecting off her eyes. For a long while, she says nothing, and Alex feels her heart drop slowly into her stomach.

 

Then, Lena’s hand squeezes hers, and in an impossibly soft voice, “Alright.”

 

Alex blinks. “Alright… what?”

 

“Alright, you can keep telling me until I believe it.”

 

And that’s that. Lena lets go of her hand and takes another bite of ice cream, and Alex sits there, watching her until she glances back up. “Are you going to eat yours? It’s going to melt,” she points out, oh-so-casual.

 

Alex’s lips twitch up at that, almost in awe. Leave it to Lena to go back to acting as though nothing had just happened. “Right,” she says, and dips her own spoon into her ice cream.

 

* * *

 

**_iv. whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you’ve counted the space between her breaths and are certain she’s asleep. shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. maybe you were just sleep whispering._ **

 

She’d never admit this to Kara if her sister asked, but the truth is, Alex doesn’t sleep much anymore.

 

At least, not in her own home. She has a cot set up in her office for long nights spent at the DEO, and she naps on Lena’s couch in her own office sometimes, while waiting for the other woman to get out of a meeting. In the dark stillness of her own apartment, however, is when sleep rarely comes. Kara would probably point to Alex’s unhealthy addiction to caffeine as the problem, or insist that she’s working too hard instead of sleeping when she should be.

 

Alex hasn’t told Kara about the nightmares.

 

Technically she hadn’t told Lena about them either, but Lena found out anyways, as she always does. She tries to help her sometimes, to fall asleep and _stay_ asleep. Some nights, it works, but others?

 

Others, like tonight, for example, she spends lying in bed next to Lena, staring up at the large paint streaks on her ceiling. She counts the clicking noise that her ceiling fan makes as it spins around and around — almost erratically, because she and Lena both hate going to bed when it’s hot — and listens to the sound of Lena’s steady breathing beside her.

 

The soft glow of the full moon outside is the only light that shines through Alex’s apartment windows, illuminating the bedroom just enough for her to see pale shadows dancing on the floor and the walls. Beside her, Lena shifts under the duvet, and Alex turns to her side and takes her in, eyes burning with the need for sleep and chest burning with something else, something stronger, something _terrifying,_ as she watches Lena sleep.

 

It’s fucking _weird_ and Alex knows that, but she can’t help herself.

 

Lena has given her a privilege without her consent, and Alex feels guilt climb up her throat as she watches the other woman, because Lena hadn’t signed up for allowing Alex to take in the slight curve of her lips and the way her chest rises and falls slowly, steadily, eyebrows just barely furrowed in her sleep.

 

Lena Luthor is not the type to leave a door wide open for just anyone, and it’s a shock, even, that Alex has been granted the honor of being let inside at all. But somehow, she knows that even if Lena had slammed the door in her face, she would’ve found her way inside anyways.

 

There are always cracks underneath the doors people close, and windows that could easily be broken, and Lena Luthor is not an exception to that rule.

 

Alex blinks hard, hand reaching forward, itching to trace her fingers over smooth, bare shoulder blades and down the curve of Lena’s spine, before she jerks her hand away.

 

This is Maggie all over again and Alex had promised herself she’d never make that mistake again, allowing herself to fall so hard so fast. Yet here she is, begging for it on her knees in the dirt, the barely-healed wounds put there by loving Maggie split open and bleeding once again by loving Lena.

 

But being in love with Lena — _in love,_ it’s the first time she’s officially acknowledged that it’s more than something like mere puppy love, and the thought makes her heart pound — is different than being in love with Maggie. Because where Maggie was cocky and arrogant, Lena is confident. Where Maggie was harsh and jagged, Lena is soft and smooth. Where Maggie was all _“you get one, Danvers,”_ Lena is, despite getting hurt so many times before, one of the most forgiving people she’s ever known.

 

It’s such an _easy_ thing to give her, these tiny pieces of Alex’s heart.

 

Without thinking, she leans forward, lips pressing against the top of Lena’s head. Then they’re moving, the three words slipping out as quiet as a soft breath into Lena’s hair.

 

_I love you._

 

Then she pulls away, and it only takes a second before she sees Lena’s eyes flutter. A sharp spike of panic jabs her between the ribs as she turns over and squeezes her eyes shut tight, steadying her breathing.

 

“Alex?” Lena’s voice is raspy with sleep, the kind of raspy that Alex adores, but she doesn’t move as Lena’s hand reaches for her, fumbling underneath the blanket. She’s had enough experience with the DEO to know how to keep still and silent when she needs to be, and thankfully, it’s come in handy for more than just missions. “Honey, are you awake?”

 

She feels the blanket pull up slightly as Lena sits up, staring down at her. She can feel sharp green eyes on her, questioning, feeling as though they could burn right through her flesh. She feels like she could catch on fire from the piercing gaze, but she keeps her own eyes closed, relaxing her expression. If anything, Lena will most likely chalk up her confession to her simply talking in her sleep; she does that sometimes, after all.

 

There’s a slow, harsh exhale from above, and then Lena is sliding back fully under the covers, legs shifting to tangle with Alex’s as she gets comfortable once more.

 

If Lena suspects it to be anything more than a whisper in her sleep, she says nothing about it the next morning. She doesn’t bring it up, nor does she say it back, but the kiss she gives Alex over coffee is just a _little_ gentler than usual.

 

* * *

 

**_v. blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. when time seems to freeze, hastily tack on “in that shirt” or “when you make your award-winning meatballs” or, if you are feeling particularly brave, “when we do this.” resume dancing and pretend you don’t feel her eyes on you the rest of the night._ **

 

It’s raining, the icy grey sky grumbling restlessly from above as cold, fat drops pour down over the city with a roar. Alex watches from the stove with furrowed brows as it comes down hard outside, the rain pounding against the glass balcony door.

 

The door lurches open from behind her, and she turns around to come face-to-face with a soaking wet, scowling Lena Luthor. Alex’s mouth curls in to avoid breaking out into a smile at the sight of Lena’s hair, sticking to the side of her face, and her designer dress, clinging to her body in a way that Alex can only imagine is more uncomfortable than sexy.

 

“Don't you dare,” Lena warns even before she gets halfway into the apartment, kicking off her heels and peeling her dress off as quickly as possible.

 

“I wasn't going to say anything,” Alex defends herself, but her smile escapes when she speaks, and Lena glares at her from across the room as she steps out of the dress and heads for the bedroom. Without even asking, she wrenches open Alex’s closet doors and snatches a change of clothes — Alex’s cardinal stanford sweatshirt and a pair of black pajama pants — and pulls them on.

 

“Warm and cozy now, Luthor?” Alex calls teasingly from the kitchen.

 

“You know,” Lena starts, sidling up beside Alex in front of the stove. “I think this is the possibly least expensive outfit I’ve ever worn.”

 

“Hey!” Alex huffs, looking over to see Lena staring back at her with a glint in her eye, the edge of full pink lips twitching up. “For your information, that sweatshirt cost me sixty dollars.”

 

“And so you’ve proven my point,” Lena replies, blatantly ignoring the faux-vexed expression Alex throws her way.

 

A silence settles over them after that as Alex continues to cook dinner — something she’s been trying hard to get better at in the past few months, because Alex Danvers refuses to be _bad_ at something like this — up until the moment Lena slips away from beside her. Just a few seconds later, _Stay_ by Sara Bareilles drifts through the apartment, and Alex feels Lena’s lips brush against the back of her neck, goosebumps erupting there.

 

“May I have this dance?”

 

“Are you— Lena, I’m cooking,” Alex reminds her, but Lena rolls her eyes and nips at her earlobe, huffing out a quiet laugh.

 

“Oh, honey,” she says. “It’s going to burn anyways.”

 

Alex opens her mouth to argue, but then slowly shuts it again because— well, yeah, she’s probably right. But, “Let me at least finish this so I don’t burn the whole apartment down.”

 

Lena, naturally, doesn’t listen. She leans past Alex and quickly turns the stove off, then wraps her arm around Alex’s waist. “There,” she says. “Now you won’t.”

 

She doesn’t wait for Alex to chide her. Instead, she twists her around so that they’re facing each other, their bodies intertwined, hands clasped together, hearts beating as one. Somehow, dancing with a pajama-clad Lena in the middle of Alex’s kitchen feels infinitely more intimate than dancing with someone else in a ballroom. She drops her head to Lena’s shoulder, Lena’s arms sliding back around her waist, and sighs softly.

 

“God, I love you.”

 

The words fall off her tongue as they so often do, so easily it shouldn’t be possible, and it’s not like she hasn’t said it to Lena’s face before. Tonight, however, when Lena pulls away and looks at her with an unreadable expression, Alex hastily tacks on, “In my sweatshirt! I love you in my sweatshirt.”

 

She steps closer and grabs onto the front of said sweatshirt, pulling Lena against her, and she tries not to melt under Lena’s intense gaze. And Alex knows with certainty that she caught the true meaning, that she’s already called bullshit on Alex’s not-so-smooth catch, but she says nothing about it.

 

Despite this, Alex feels Lena’s eyes on her for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

**_vi. write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival mr. darcy’s. debate where to leave it all day – on her pillow? in her coat pocket? throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trashcan, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. let her wonder if you meant it._ **

 

Despite popular opinion among most of the agents at the DEO, Alex Danvers has a heart, and it functions like any other. It beats to keep her alive, pumps blood into her veins and gives her lungs oxygen. It vibrates with happiness, pounds with adrenaline, flutters with excitement.

 

But, more recently, it loves. _Hard._

 

Alex thinks about this as she sits in her office late one night, chewing absently on the end of a ballpoint pen. There are crumpled up papers scattered all around her desk and one new, fresh piece of paper sitting in front of her, halfway filled with words that Alex had scrawled in her shitty handwriting, words that she’s never spoken aloud.

 

She’s been writing for only forty minutes now and her hand is already starting to cramp, but she just can’t seem to get it _right,_ this whole love letter thing.

 

 _Just write what you feel._ That’s what Kara had said, when she walked in on Alex writing the first attempt at a decent, coherent love letter. Her eyes run over the contents of the letter for the millionth time; she sees crossed out phrases and repetitive lines and all of a sudden she feels ridiculous. The words that have spilled from her pen onto the paper are cheesy and cliché, but they’re the closest thing to what she actually feels when she sees Lena as she could possibly get.

 

It shouldn’t be this hard, not really — not when there are so many things about loving Lena that Alex could write about, so much love in her heart that it’s overflowing. The problem is that nothing she writes is good enough, at least not for Lena, and Lena deserves only the best.

 

Alex sighs in frustration. There are things that she _knows_ she could write about, but just can’t express in words, and it gives her a headache just trying. She’s never been good at words, not like this. She can deconstruct codes and figure out scientific equations like it’s nothing, but writing down her feelings?

 

Her mind simply… _blanks._

 

A knock at the door snaps her out of it, and her head shoots up so fast she almost manages to give herself whiplash. Because that’s a rhythmic knock, one specific only to Lena. Cursing under her breath, Alex hastily sweeps the crumpled up papers into the trashcan, and the most recent attempt follows immediately after. “Come in!”

 

Lena enters the office carrying a brown paper bag and a stern look on her face. “Alex Danvers.”

 

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up. “Lena Luthor.”

 

“When was the last time you ate?” The question comes out sounding more like something you’d ask during an interrogation than anything else, and Alex focuses on a point above Lena’s head, trying to think.

 

“Uh…” Was it breakfast that morning? She vaguely recalls picking up a scone as she was grabbing coffee before work, and she’d ended up working straight through lunch.

 

Lena rolls her eyes. “That tells me all I need to know.” She plops the paper bag down on Alex’s desk, right where the half-written letter had been sitting just moments before. “Luckily, I come bearing Chinese.”

 

Alex looks up at Lena through her lashes, smiling softly. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best girlfriend ever?”

 

“Once or twice,” Lena response, dragging a chair in front of Alex’s desk to sit in. “Now what have you been so busy working on that you forgot to eat?”

 

Without meaning to, Alex’s eyes flick towards the trashcan beside her desk. The letter she wrote to Lena sits right there on top, Lena’s name able to be seen clearly by anyone with working eyes, and she swallows hard. “Just some paperwork. Being a director isn’t all blazing guns and shouting orders.”

 

She chuckles nervously as she pries open the plastic lid off a container of chow mein. Across from her, Lena looks at her questioningly, and Alex gives a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I just— I wasn’t expecting you to come by tonight.”

 

“Should I go then?” Lena asks slowly.

 

“No!” Alex nearly shouts. She lowers her voice, clearing her throat. “No, don’t go, please. I’ll take any second I can get with you before I leave for D.C this weekend.”

 

The smile Lena gives her in response makes her heart race. She shoves a bite of food into her mouth, looking down and away from piercing green eyes, willing her nerves to calm down. But every so often, her eyes will glance at the letter in the trash and her nerves will flare up again, hoping that Lena doesn’t notice.

 

But Alex knows Lena better than that, and she sees the moment Lena _does_ finally notice, expression shifting just slightly to curiosity, eyes flashing with an emotion Alex can’t quite place. When she clears her throat, Lena’s eyes shoot up to meet hers, and she smiles as though nothing happened.

 

“Thank you for bringing me dinner,” Alex says as Lena is getting ready to leave, crumpling up the paper bag in her hands.

 

“Of course. If I don’t feed you, who will? Certainly not yourself,” Lena teases her, leaning down for a goodbye kiss. Alex lets herself melt into it, eyelids slipping shut as she deepens it just slightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lena whispers against her mouth, breath warm against Alex’s lips.

 

The letter is gone from the trash when Alex finally opens her eyes, nothing but their food containers and the rest of the crumpled up pieces of paper left inside the bin.

 

Lena leaves her office without saying another word.

 

//

 

It isn’t until almost a month later, wandering Lena’s quiet penthouse in the middle of the night while Lena sleeps peacefully in bed, that Alex finds the letter as she’s rummaging around the nightstand drawer for her glasses.

 

There it is, sitting in the drawer, taunting Alex. On the top, Lena’s name is written in messy handwriting, and the paper is worn enough that it’s clearly been folded and unfolded several times in the past few weeks. Carefully opening it, Alex’s eyes scan the things she’d written that night, agonizing over whether or not it was good enough to give her.

 

_Lena,_

 

_I’ve spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to do this whole love letter thing. I hope I’ve finally got it down this time._

 

There’s a whole paragraph that’s crossed out by deep, dark pen marks, and then,

 

_You’re like the sun. That’s the only way I can think to describe you. Burning, brilliant, blinding, if I look for too long. The kind of light that lingers behind my eyelids, that doesn’t just up and vanish when I look away, but stays with me. You have a way of lighting the dark spaces in my mind, when I’m starting to think I’m too far gone but you manage to pull me back, every time._

 

_I love you. I think I have always loved you. And I know you don’t think that I mean it yet, or maybe you don’t think I’ll ever mean it. But I’m writing you this now to make sure you do._

 

It ends there. She’d meant to write more, a lot more, until Lena had visited her office that night.

 

She glances over at Lena, still fast asleep, and smiles before setting the letter back in its place and shutting the drawer. She hopes Lena knows she meant every word.

 

* * *

 

**_vii. wait until something terrible has happened and you can’t not tell her anymore. wait until she almost gets hit by a car crossing wabash against the light and after you are done cursing at the shit-for-brains cab drivers in this city, realize you are actually just terrified of living without her. tell her with your hands shaking._ **

 

Road accidents are, in Alex’s opinion, one of the most cliché ways to die.

 

But to Alex, they were never something to worry about before.

 

This is especially true for people like her, and people like Lena, two women who are constantly thrust into the face of danger. Alex has to use two hands to count the number of times Lena has survived an assassination attempt, and she herself has barely gotten out of certain missions with her life.

 

So, sue her, because while being too concerned for Lena’s well-being in terms of getting poisoned, or shot through her office window, or kidnapped by her homicidal brother, _something_ along the lines of Ways That Lena Luthor Has Almost Died Before, Alex had never considered that something so mundane — something so _normal,_ which is unlike literally anything else in their lives — is something she should have been worried about as well.

 

//

 

It starts like this—

 

They’re on their way back from visiting Eliza in Midvale, and Alex had finally roped Lena into riding on the back of her Ducati, relishing in the feel of Lena’s arms wrapped tight around her torso. The sun is setting, the sky outside a tint of orange and pink, and the road is nearly deserted around this area, so Alex speeds up.

 

Just a little. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough to make Lena’s heart pound, her breathless screams getting lost in the wind as they fly down the path, hands clutching at Alex’s leather jacket. When Alex looks in the rearview mirror of her bike, Lena has her head thrown back, dark hair whipping wildly behind her from under her helmet, and she is so, so beautiful that Alex loses her breath for a moment.

 

And then it happens.

 

It happens before Alex can even process it. One second, she is admiring Lena’s beauty and the joy radiating off of her as they ride, and the next, a truck comes out of nowhere, barreling towards them. Suddenly there is a horrible, horrible sound of metal grating against gravel and the screech of truck tires, and Alex swerves hastily, the Ducati slipping out from under her. In an instant, Lena’s arms around her torso are torn away violently, and Alex doesn’t have any time to process that before she’s being flung from the bike herself, body slamming against the pavement.

 

Her Ducati lies on its side just a few feet away from her, and then Lena, lying a few feet from the bike. And once again Alex is breathless, but for a different reason this time, because now there is a crushing weight pressing down on her chest as she rolls over and pushes herself up, staring at Lena through the crack in her visor.

 

There is blood running down Alex’s arms and her skin burns from being dragged across the pavement, one of her arms certainly broken, but Alex ignores the pain as she crawls towards Lena, letting out a harsh sigh of relief when she gets close enough to catch the slow, but still there, rise and fall of Lena’s chest.

 

“Lena…” It escapes her as a whisper, disbelieving, and her good hand trembles as it hovers over her girlfriend’s body. Her helmet, which had come off when she was flung from the bike, sits beside her, broken and scratched. Lena’s eyes flutter, thank God, and her lips part just barely, a thin line of crimson dripping down her chin.

 

Her eyes are glassy as they meet Alex’s, and Alex crumples down next to her, reaching down to brush a strand of hair from her face. There’s black at the edge of her own vision from the pain, but she breathes through it and focuses on Lena.

 

“Alex.”

 

It comes out as a wheeze, a weak, choked sound that makes Alex’s heart climb into her throat. “Hey, hey, you’re fine. It’s fine. I’m going to call Kara, and we’re going to be fine—”

 

She’s halfway through doing exactly that when Lena speaks her name again, so brokenly that it makes Alex freeze up with dread.

 

_“Alex.”_

 

Lena’s head is caked with blood, soaking her hair and running down her cheek, seeping into the collar of her blouse. Her eyes are more black than green now, no longer staring at Alex but shifting back and forth as though she doesn’t quite know where to look.

 

“Hey, no, no, no.” She leans over Lena, swallowing down bile as her eyes flick from the broken helmet beside them to Lena’s head injury. She jumps into action immediately, shedding her shirt and pressing it against the wound at the back of Lena’s head. “You’re going to be fine,” she insists, the words ripping out of her throat, as she presses on her watch furiously. “You’re going to be fine, because I love you and I— I can’t lose you. You can’t go, you’re okay. I love you. You’re okay.”

 

Behind her, there’s a whooshing sound and Kara’s boots thudding against the road, along with another pair that Alex can only assume to be J’onn. In front of her, Lena’s eyes are starting to close, her breathing turning shallow.

 

“Oh, Rao,” Kara breathes out in shock and worry. “Alex, we need to get her to the DEO.”

 

Kara’s hand comes down on her good shoulder, pulling her away gently. Alex watches closely, inhaling sharply as Lena’s head drops limply to rest on Kara’s shoulder, and in an instant, they’re both gone before she can even blink.

 

Alex is slow to stand, and it’s only then that she realizes how much pain she’s in, and how exhausted she feels after just a few minutes. Almost as soon as she straightens up, her knees nearly give way, and J’onn is the only thing that manages to keep her standing.

 

“It’s going to be okay, Alex,” is the last thing she hears him say before the black at the edge of her vision envelopes her completely.

 

//

 

She wakes up with an IV drip in one arm and the other in a sling, gauze bandages on both, her heart beat able to be heard from the monitor beside her bed. It spikes when she tries to sit up, arms and legs feeling too heavy to move. Her head falls back against the pillows quickly, mind fuzzy.

 

 _Lena,_ she thinks, before her eyes slip shut.

 

The second time she wakes up, the IV drip is gone and she can move without feeling like her limbs are being weighed down. She sits up gingerly, a dull throbbing pain in her right arm near her elbow, the spot between her eyes pounding.

 

“You’re awake!”

 

She winces at Kara’s excited shout, her sister looking back at her sheepishly as she scowls. “Sorry,” she whispers, adjusting her glasses. “I was just worried. You’ve been in and out for a while.”

 

Alex shakes her head; she doesn’t care about that. “Lena?”

 

“She’s going to be okay, Alex. It looked a lot worse than it really was. She’s fine.”

 

“I need to see her.” She’s already trying to get out of bed, flinging her legs off the mattress and hiding the resulting wince from Kara as she does so. Kara’s hands come up to her shoulders to stop her, gently trying to press her back down onto the bed. “Kara.”

 

“Lena isn’t the only one who got hurt in the accident,” Kara argues, looking pointedly at Alex’s sling, gesturing towards the gauze-covered arms, concealing the road burn she’d received after being thrown from the Ducati. “You need rest, too.”

 

“I’ll rest after I see her.” When Kara doesn’t budge, Alex sighs. “Kara, please. I promise, once I see her, I’ll rest for as long as you want me to.”

 

For a brief moment, she’s afraid Kara isn’t going to agree. Then she nods, and relief floods through Alex as she steps out of the way. “J’onn is with her. She’s sleeping right now, Hamilton pumped a lot of pain meds into her.”

 

Kara is right; when Alex enters the room, slowly, gingerly, Lena is completely knocked out. There are bandages on her head and a few stitches for some cuts on her face, but other than that, she looks alright. Her skin is pale, but a normal _Lena_ pale, not deathly pale, and her hands are warm to the touch as Alex takes one in hers.

 

She dimly registers J’onn and Kara shuffling out of the room as she sits on the chair beside Lena’s bedside. She leans down, pressing her lips softly to the back of Lena’s hand, letting her eyes slip shut as she holds Lena’s hand to her mouth. “I love you,” she breathes out softly against Lena’s curled fingers, guilt heavy in her chest. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love you.”

 

When Lena wakes up ten minutes later, Alex is still repeating it.

 

* * *

 

**_viii. say it deliberately, your tongue a springboard for every syllable. over coffee, brushing your teeth side-by-side, as you turn off the light to go to sleep – it doesn’t matter where. do not adorn it with extra words like “i think” or “i might.” do not sigh heavily as if admitting it were a burden instead of the most joyous thing you’ve ever done. look her in the eyes and pray, heart thumping wildly, that she will turn to you and say, “i love you too.”_ **

 

Alex wakes up to an empty bed, the sheets cold when she brushes her hand against it. She can hear noise in the kitchen, of cabinets being slammed shut and the clanking of dishes.

 

Lena must be making breakfast.

 

It takes Alex a few seconds to gather the energy to slip out of bed, shivering slightly as the air hits her bare skin before she pulls on the clothes that had been haphazardly thrown on the floor the night prior, the carpet warm beneath her feet from the sunlight shining through the window. When she pads into the kitchen, Lena is already pouring two mugs of coffee, handing a mug to Alex when she runs around. “Morning,” Alex yawns, taking a seat at the bar.

 

The corner of Lena’s mouth quirks up at the tired raspiness of her voice. “Good morning,” she echoes, leaning across the bar to briefly peck Alex on the lips.

 

“I have the evening off later,” Alex tells her, sipping carefully at her coffee. It’s scalding hot, wisps of steam still wafting from the mug. “I was thinking we could do something tonight.”

 

There is a tiny velvet box burning a hole through the pocket of her jacket, and Alex holds her breath as she waits for Lena’s reply. “Of course. Anything in specific you have in mind?”

 

Alex shrugs, attempting to seem nonchalant as she sits back, taking another sip of coffee. “The beach?” she suggests. “We’ll take a walk on the boardwalk, have dinner, watch the sunset…”

 

“You always were one for cheesy romantics,” Lena teases as she rounds the bar. “I would love that.”

 

“Great.” Alex’s next breath comes out harsh, relieved, her heart skipping a beat. She had everything already set up at the beach, and she’d been hoping, _praying_ that Lena would agree.

 

“I’ve got to shower before work. Join me?” Lena suggests, already walking backwards towards the bathroom as she strips her clothes one by one, eyebrows raised, biting her lip.

 

Alex nods. “In a few minutes,” she assures her. And then, just as she’s stepped into the bathroom, “Hey, Lena?”

 

Lena pokes her head out. “Yes?”

 

“I love you.”

 

It’s straightforward, the way she says it, without any hesitation. Soft and delicate, like saying it any other way could possibly break her, shatter her into a million tiny pieces. There’s a brief silence that follows, as there often is, and Alex isn’t expecting any kind of reply — at least not the kind of reply that only brushes off her confession, one that leaks with uncertainty and doubt.

 

But then, just as softly from her stance halfway inside the bathroom, “I love you too.”

 

And finally, Alex can breathe.

 


End file.
